Wicked Games
by Raving In The Rain
Summary: BLUESHIPPING: Seto Kaiba hardly drinks. Why would he willingly dull his wits, knowing he'd need them every moment, every duel, every challenge in his life. But tonight? Screw it. Tonight he's another face in the darkness of the gentleman's club. Tonight he'll bring his heart, submerge in the filth of untouchable pleasure, and watch her dance for him(Song: Wicked Games - The Weeknd)


**Surely there must have been people around him.** If he wanted to look for company, he'd probably only find the taciturn perversion of their silhouettes. Longing, lustful, lonesome faces alongside him in the near darkness of the gentleman's club. Lowly rays of neon lights feathered along the bars and stage, but hardly a shine of it reached the dreadful audience's faces. Maybe for good reason. And the anonymity of the dim blackness wd was something he was actually grateful for.

For this was probably the last place he'd want to be seen after everything that had happened**. **Him; Seto Kaiba. Normally, he'd find himself above such things. Like the cheap party booze too quickly choked down by the younger of crowd, or the desensitizing bass of erogenous, objectifying music. Not that he had much listened to the words of it. It all somehow blurred together nonsensically as he took another swig of the bitter, burning rum.

The burn of alcohol was disgustingly welcomed by his senses. Seto was not the sort of man to mix his drinks or flavor them fruitfully into some casual, fun conversation piece. No, he took his drinks straight up. If it hurts somehow, he could be more aware of himself and the intake. If anything was to dull the senses or his wits, then it should rightfully be painful or sickening to achieve that climax of numb forgetfulness. That's what this was all about anyways. Trying to forget, trying to dehydrate his soul, trying his damn hardest not to exist anymore.

He looked up to the stage again after dousing his heart. These women- slowly, generously dancing before him- were certainly beautiful. They'd entangle themselves around the glimmering poles. Winding, grinding, smiling with such delicious poison painted into their deep, dire red lips. Their skins glittered too magically for his own tastes, but perhaps that was because this was the theatrical part of untouchable sexuality. Like costume and masks. He was only meant to watch the show.

Seto was not a stranger to the female figure. He knew he could take any one of them home. He'd seen his fan-mail and heard wind of the celebrity topic columns, where women often doted on him. "One of the world's most sought after bachelors." The thought made him smirk in the throbbing dark. As if he'd ever appear on one of those distasteful, Hollywood-botched reality shows.

He'd never say a word of it to anyone, but he certainly looked at these women too when he could. He knew a beautiful woman when he saw one; would probably admire her briefly and think fondly for a few fleeting moments. But that was all. He'd hardly ever let himself act or feel. Just observe and think. And sometimes just watching was splendid enough. Like the finest artwork. She'd not have to do a thing either- just simply exist- and he'd be better knowing he had never felt her.

No... then he'd have loved her. And she'd never be content by his brand of his seemingly distant, unfeeling love.

He took another drink.

The bedazzled, shimmering women reveled in their last ovations. The curly blonde lifted her legs wide and welcoming, where the unseen hands would reach up and stuff varying bills into her garment of string. Seto let his mind drift to the idea of her costuming. The tantalizing, eye-drawing cuts of the minimal fabric. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't amused by the sight of so much flesh. Did these women actually enjoy wearing something so unforgiving, or was it all for the ease of cash slipping in between their thighs and asses?

Seto could have tripled, quadrupled, all that they had just earned by spreading their legs and untying their tops. He was sure he could have paid for all their rent and worries; no, he could buy this entire place and take all these lovely dancers shamelessly on a private cruise to somewhere far away. Drown in toxic pleasure. But he didn't pay them a damn thing. Just lifted the last of his cup to his lips and carried on as another unlit face in this grungy, dark place. Unseen. Unheard. Nonexistent. A ghost, if he'd ever allow the word to sit with him.

As the dancers returned backstage with G-strings fluttering with their thank yous, a scantily clad waitress came around to Seto's side. Beautiful, of course, like all the others. A black, lacy bikini for uniform, and long tresses of burgundy hair that dribbled along Seto's shoulder as she bent over to him.

"Another drink, handsome?" she licked her words. "Or maybe you're thirsty for something else."

Probably, he mentally replied to her. But he wasn't sure he could be quenched. Seto merely lifted his hand with so little a look. He'd not have another drink, for nothing would fill him. Alas, this woman, maybe with the experience to taste luxe in the air, was determined to service him. Somehow. Some way. A scavenger for love and for tips, she lifted her tender limbs over his lap. Straddling him, rolling her body closer to his face, hands drooling hungrily down his chest. Notice me, her body screamed. Hold me, make me breathe.

"No? What, are we too boring for you, hun?" she whispered playfully to him almost so as to not make the other men envious.

He could almost laugh. Not at her. No. But more from that place in his gut that knew this confidence was erotic desperation, that need- fuck it- that disgusting yearning to feel necessary. If even for the moment. Reticent and drearily withdrawing further into the stench of cigars and emptiness, Seto just let her do as she pleased. He'd let her cup his face entirely, force kiss after kiss unto his lips.

The music began again somewhere, following some kind of introduction that Seto did not care much to hear. Guns N' Roses, "This I Love" came filling the club room with that melancholic, pining romance, as one of their principal dancers must have taken the stage. It almost went amiss under the moans and giggles of his sexy little waitress. He felt her body's pressure. He let her play with his own body carelessly. Her touch was almost lost to him; unfelt. And he knew how hard this woman must have been trying to arouse him. A sort of queasy, pathetic chunk of guilt stuck in his throat for a while.

"C'mon, baby. Play with me." she urged. For her dignity, for her self worth, for her wallet and hopes of getting out of here; just feel something!

She kissed him harder as the music sloshed and muffled beneath their intimacy. And he wanted to. He really did- fuck! That vacancy remained where lust and passion should have been. He could almost curse himself. Soon enough he just wanted to get out of here. This whole thing was a mistake! The girls, the drinks, the thinking that maybe...

The woman began working her way down his neck, dragging her tongue along his muscles and arches. And at last he could see, if even only a little, what had brought the music back into his conscious ears. The entire club had gone pitch black but for the dark blue spotlight raining down on their solo dancer. Seto looked through the waitress' red hair to find just a glimpse of the night's main attraction...

This girl was... so enticing, so...

Wild white hair, glowing a soft blue in the spotlight, and long as her curvy legs. Whipping and whirling with seduction untamed. She wore tall silvery platform heels, of which the straps were buckled tightly to her light, fragile skin. Yet the instability of her footwear's appearance did little to hinder her ability to coruscate over the stage. She spun around the pole with an innocence to her strut. One so that made him, at the very least, wonder how such a presence could wind up performing before a crowd who'd never appreciate her art.

Her costume was unlike the others for she was their soloist, their headliner. So she was granted a crop top of white lace; barely hiding the skin of her breasts beneath, but just swirling with enough white florals to dim the color of the areolar region. A matching thong snuggly graced the round of her hips, as if to tease class and luxury. This one, this woman, was the special treat for those who could be patient enough to see the show through to the end.

With great strength pulsing through her arms, she made the climb to the top of the pole as if she'd had wings the entire time. An effortless ascension to her world above the sinful crowd. There she dazzled. There she shined like the moon among the night of the club. She could flip and turn about the pole without even the use of her hands. She'd merely squeezed her taut body against the stand and let herself free. Kicking heel-stretches and arabesques in the midst of the air.

In some jewelry boxes, when young girls dream of being princesses kind and fair, a ballerina or crowned beauty would spin upon a cord every time it opened. Twinkling childishly, but just as charmingly.

This woman was one such queen. She'd made the dance seem all so easy and light, but their was strength- so much strength- in her body, in her endlessly blue eyes. She could prance just as carefree as a dreaming child, though her dance was sultry and sinful. She bent, she flexed, she flipped, and smiled... and all without paying mind to who may have been watching from the blackness surrounding her one spot of light. This was her light. Her moment.

The waitress undulating on Seto's lap had finally sensed his stillness. He wasn't hers. This time she knew for sure. Slowly, miserly, maybe crestfallen by their tiny romance, she pulled slightly away from him.

"I can... make you feel good." she croaked, maybe used to the rejection.

Seto looked to her, this human being of hurt and heartache. God, her eyes were so empty from long, tipless nights, wondering why she wasn't good enough. He held her in his lap for a moment, maybe wanting to say something.

"What do you want, baby?" she tried again, "I can- I can do it."

"I know." he hushed her.

"Please, what do you want?"

Seto look over her shoulder to the enchanting soloist who needed no cash from the readied hands. The waitress needn't look back either. She'd probably seen this all too many times before. Another lonesome man wanting the dancer in white. Not her. No one ever wanted her.

"Her." Seto spoke, almost unwillingly. "What's her name?"

The waitress sat back, now covering some of her shame, "That's Baby Blue."

"Her real name." he said quickly, and not to be toyed with any longer. This was business now. A mission.

"Kisara. I don't know her last name. She just started working here a couple weeks ago, but she's got everyone going crazy."

Seto could hear the bitterness brimming on this woman's lips. She'd done her best to sound sincere, but forlorn failure was something he'd scarcely forget the sound of.

He had rubbed his neck with a small, finishing sigh, before gently lifting this girl off of him. Even in the dark, her face told all to well of how she'd rarely been treated this way. With so few words, he'd still been a sort of gentleman about his refusal. Standing now in front of her, Seto reached quickly into his coat pocket for a pen and easily concealed checkbook.

"Here." he tore off a parchment for her to take in her hand.

"For... me? But, sir, I-"

"Tell Kisara that she's needed in the Blue Room after her performance. I'll have it privately reserved."

He had walked deeper and deeper in the abyss of tobacco and bleak maze of hallways. Towards the private show rooms where not a light seemed to shine- perhaps to cloak their very existences, as per their purpose. The waitress left behind in the slowing, dying strum of music stood so baffled, so bluntly in the crowd she may have been spotted by her manager too easily. Peculiarly, the girl's eyes fell to the check in her hand and then her mouth to the floor...

It was so dark... no... that man must not have known what he was writing...

* * *

**Thank You For Reading!**

**This fic was inspired by "Wicked Games" by The Weeknd. It just gave me so many darker blueshipping feels, and I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Part 2 Coming Soon!**


End file.
